run boy run

[foundmyselfagain]

WHO: Gareth and YOU
WHAT: Gareth adjusting to being back from his surprise extended stay in Tevinter
WHEN: The week or so after the rescue
WHERE: Around the Gallows
NOTES: Probably gonna be talk about trauma and how not to deal with it, gareth being gareth, etc etc

i. work

Gareth is a ghost.

He is, however, a ghost with a job, and while his superiors (Salvio? Thranduil? Whatever) would probably be willing to give him a few days off to get over the whole...captive thing, he would prefer to have something to do. Something to occupy his mind, his hands. He's had plenty of time to sit around in a small room.

So he idles around the library, or more accurately, lurks, fidgeting with books in the background, rearranging them, making sure everything is where it should be. He stays away from anyone else, stays silent, and close to the shelves, as though he can make himself invisible simply by not speaking or getting too close to anyone.

When not at the library, he's in one of the vaults, or poking around at one of the old, dusty corners of the cellars of the Gallows, inventorying and tidying. There usually isn't much company in these places, which means anyone who comes here will probably be trying to seek him out to speak.

ii. night

He doesn't sleep much. Dreams provide little comfort, and there's always an unpleasant lurch when he first opens his eyes, wondering if that cell will greet him again.

So, he makes his way to the shore, book in hand. Because, if you're not going to be doing something for a few hours, you might as well read. If the moon doesn't provide enough light to read by, he simply raises the hand with the anchor shard in it, soft green light spilling over the pages.

iii. break
[[ooc note: closed to close cr only!]]

At some point, something in him snaps. Something that had been repressed since he was first captured, waiting to come out, snarling and angry and hurting. He doesn't wait for the Gallows to fall again to let it out, and takes his staff into the training room, hoping to burn that energy on something constructive.

But it isn't enough. Each time his staff makes contact with the training dummy, he imagines a new face, the Venatori, Corypheus, even the ones who broke him in the first place. Templars, Meredith, even Orsino, and it's not enough, he has to hurt them more, give them that yawning pain that he had to live through, that he had to relive, that seems to never leave him.

Fire and thunder break out, sizzling across his staff at first, and then growing stronger as he lashes out with all the mana he can muster, until it runs out and Gareth, with one final swing to the now rather singed dummy, falls to his knees, panting. It doesn't feel better. Not like hurting the Templars did, during the war. Like seeing the people who sought to strike him down fall to their own comrades sword. But he's supposed to be better now.

He doesn't feel better.

Comments

[exequy]

The silence is long enough that he's wondering if he should leave—leave, pack a few belongings from their shared room, and let Gareth have it to himself possibly forever, because if Kostos is good at anything it's dramatically cutting himself off from people at the slightest hint that it's the morally correct option and then missing them from the other side of a self-imposed barrier, like a good Andrastian martyr.

Gareth starts talking again before he's made up his mind, and it isn't to push him further away. Kostos doesn't look at him again, but he does turn his head partway in his direction, pointing an ear more directly at him while his eyes stay on the water. He's still alive. And because he's Gareth, and Kostos does love him in his way, that feels like all that matters. He's alive. The rest will follow, or fade.

But it wouldn't be all that mattered with someone else, and he can't say it's all that matters now without throwing the hypocrisy into unbearably sharp relief: control yourself, contain yourself, get over everything, recognize there are things that matter more than your life or your comfot, the world isn't going to wait for you—unless you're one of the following four to six people.

So he says, "Did you give them anything?"

[foundmyselfagain]

"Information, mostly." It’s something he'll probably have to tell the leaders at some point, what the Venatori know now, what they think they know. But putting it off is far more appealing, and having to explain to them what happened, how easily he gave up, is something he’s going to prolong for as long as he can.

"Not a lot," He’s quick to continue, and it occurs to him that whatever reprimands or shaming he gets from the leaders, he’s far more worried about Kostos' disapproval. His opinions are more important, disappointment more rending. And yet, Gareth doesn’t hide his actions from Kostos. Usually. Probably something about that stupid ‘trust’ thing. "Just enough to keep us safe. Or—I tried. To keep us safe. I just—"

His voice chokes on the words for a moment, and Gareth takes a few slow breaths before continuing. "I was afraid—not of dying, we talked about that. But there’s worse. There’s always worse. And if not for me, then someone else."